Forgotten
by BookishGray
Summary: Garry is stuck in the Fabricated World. There is no way out. He's willing to put up with that fact, but he's miserable. Poor Garry. It must be lonely when your own best friend doesn't even remember you. A one-shot set after the "Together Forever" ending.


**A/N: Hiya! This is my first published fanfic and I just wanted to say thanks for reading! ****I hated it when - in my first play-through of Ib - Garry died and I never confronted Mary, giving me the "Together Forever" ending. I thought Mary was nice, but didn't like that Garry died just for her to get to the real world. At the same time, it gave me the perfect inspiration for my writing. Tell me what you think in the reviews please! Thanks again :3 (Btw: This is from Garry's point of view. Also words in _italics _are his thoughts.)**

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"Look, Mary!" A familiar voice gleefully exclaims, waking me from my slumber. "This one is so pretty! I think it's my favorite! What's it called? 'Forgotten Portrait'?"

Fast-moving sights blur lazily into my vision as I slowly open my all-too-heavy eyelids. What was I doing again? Where is Ib? Where is my rose?

Horrible and painful memories overtook me as I thought. Mary. Trading roses. The petals on the ground. "Loves me… loves me not!" Had that all really happened? Yes, yes of course it did. I need to find Ib. I told her I'd catch up, and I need to go find her. I attempt to stand. A new wave of pain washes over me. Still hurts. I'm in no condition to go anywhere. But… Ib.

"Why this one?" Another voice asked. I opened my eyes wider. _Their voices. I know them. How?_

I'm alone in a room. A totally blue room. Blue like my rose. There's a door behind me, locked from my side. A window is in front of me. Outside that window is… her. Ib stands, gazing up at me with her innocent, crimson eyes. _She already left. And Mary followed her out. After Mary… killed me._ A horrible realization strikes me. _I'm a painting. I'm stuck in here._

Mary had taken my rose, and destroyed it. Then she left and took my place in the real world. I'm stuck in here. I feel like crying, like sitting down and pouting, like cursing Mary out for the injustice she's done me. But I can't move. My eyes are fixed on the girls of red and yellow as they discuss my newly-formed painting.

"It's not pretty, it's creepy! It's just a dead guy with purple hair! What's so pretty about that?" Mary asks condescendingly with her hands on her hips. She has a familiar expression on her face – one I should've recognized sooner in our journey: jealousy.

"It's beautiful! The roses, his face, everything!" I blush a little at Ib's comment. "And Who said he's dead?" Ib asks, obviously hurt. "He looks like he's sleeping. He told me he'd catch up later, anyway."

My eyes and Mary's widen to their fullest as we both exclaim, "WHAT?" _She remembers! She remembers me!_

"He's a painting! Paintings can't talk," Mary pouts. She tries to look condescending again, but she just ends up looking panicked.

"Yeah…" Ib agrees. "I don't know why I said that." She laughs, but suddenly looks confused. "Paintings can't speak… But it looks so welcoming and familiar. I must've seen it before." Mary looks relieved.

"No!" I yell against the window, pounding my fists against it. "Ib, please! I can't get out, there's no way! And if I can't get out…" My voice cracks and gets quiet. "At least remember me." _I can't be stuck in here. Please. Please don't make me stay here. Ib! Don't you know me? You have to! _My thoughts begin to scream louder than my words and my head begins to pound and throb. I slump against the wall and weep. How could this happen? What did I ever do to deserve a fate as miserable as this?

Ib sticks her hand in her pocket as Mary pushes her toward their parents to leave. She pulls out the lemon hard-candy I'd given her earlier in the Safe Room. "Huh," she remarks. "I don't remember where I got this."

Mary looks at it and scowls, and then turns to Ib and says, "Hey, sis, I'm starving. May I have that?"

Ib nods hesitantly as Mary thanks her and pops it into her mouth. I try to pound on my one-way window some more, but it's no use. "At least she's happy. And if she doesn't remember me…" I sigh. "then I'm just living up to my name."


End file.
